


Traditions

by BitterTongue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, New Year's Eve, New Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 02:30:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17235656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterTongue/pseuds/BitterTongue
Summary: A little New Years fic with our favorite God of Mischief





	Traditions

Your role as glorified babysitter meant no days off, not your birthday, not Christmas, not even tonight on New Years Eve. You shifted on the couch for the third time in ten minutes, not finding any settling comfort. Your body just couldn't relax knowing that only a dozen blocks over a party was happening in Times Square and The Avengers were hosting it sans two members. The first member was you, new and fresh faced and not known very well by even the most fanatic of fans. The second was Loki, a member of the team only when he was useful and practically a prisoner in every other way. It made sense for you both to stay behind, but that didn't mean you weren't a little put out. It was the biggest broadcast of the year!  
You stood up, finally surrendering to your restlessness. Pacing the room felt better than sitting but your eyes stayed glued to the television where Steve and Natasha just clinked champagne flutes and laughed awkwardly until the camera cut away.   
“Why do you insist on watching this silly program?” Loki's called from the small kitchen of his suite.  
“Our friends are on it. Plus, its tradition.”   
Loki made a show of rolling his eyes as he poured himself a glass of wine.  
“No, no, not wine. Champagne!” you hurried into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of bubbly out of the fridge, twisting the wire cage loose.  
“No, thank you, I have my wine and I am going back to my room.”  
You cringed as the cork popped from the bottleneck and went sailing. You ducked as it ricocheted off the cabinets and reflexively grabbed Loki's hand to pull him into cover with you, only to find your hands grasp fabric. You looked up, free hand still covering your head to see Loki stoic, even bored with his fist closed around the cork. He looked down at your crouched form and raise an eyebrow.  
“And why could we not have wine?”  
You smile as widely and innocently as you can muster. You stand up and grab the neck of the bottle before going to the cabinet’s and opening them, standing on your tiptoes to see as far back as possible. You let out a sound of triumph and pulled two champagne flutes from behind a row of blue coffee mugs. You tipped the bottle over the first glass, then the other.   
“I know this is your first real year on earth so I'm gonna teach you all about New Years.”  
“I would prefer to go back to my room.” He said with a frown, but took the offered drink. He inspected the contents with scrutiny before bringing it to his nose. With a sniff and a shrug he finally took a sip.  
“The program seems silly but this beverage isn't detestable. What else must you teach me of your midgard celebration.”  
You practically squealed and with your drink in one hand and Loki's arm in the other you dragged him back to the living room.  
“Okay, well there's watching the ball drop,” you gestured to the tv where Thor was amongst the crowd, over a head above everyone, with a microphone that looked hilariously small in his large fist.   
“Then there is champagne, a toast, making resolutions, noisemakers, kissing at midnight. There's a song you're supposed to sing that I never know the words to but everyone's too drunk to care by that point-”  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“Well I'm pretty sure the song is in latin or something.” you attempted to explain but Loki cut you off again.  
“Did you say ‘kissing at midnight’?”   
You glanced at the time on the bottom corner of the screen. It was fifteen minutes till midnight. You bit your lip and shrugged in a false nonchalance.  
“Yeah, its tradition.”  
Despite the confusion on his face and his usually quick retorts Loki did not ask anymore questions. You downed your glass of champagne but it wasn't enough. You stood and practically sprinted to the kitchen to pour yourself another drink.  
“Its stupid,” you heard yourself justifying to fill the awkward silence. “people are usually drunk. And it doesn't have to mean anything.”  
He looked up then and you felt frozen. Why did he look so hurt? So resigned? You pulled your gaze away when you felt a cold fizz drip between your fingers. You turned your back on the living room and gathers a mass of paper towels in your hand.  
“Loki-” you gasped, clutching the towels to your chest. You practically ran into him as you turned around, your forehead almost smashing into his nose.   
His long fingers danced across your cheeks until they cradled the back of your head. He pulled you close, pressing lips damp with champagne against yours. You inhaled deeply through your nose and moved your mouth against his, tortured by his slow and deliberate movements. You dropped the paper towels ran open palms down his chest. He broke from you with a light chuckle, hands still tangled in your hair.   
“Am I doing this right? The tradition?” he whispered.   
You turned your head and squinted. It was three minutes to midnight.  
“You started a bit early.” you informed him, unable to suppress your grin. Your hands absently trailed from his chest down to his stomach and around his back, bringing him a step closer.   
“Then I suppose we will have to try again in a few minutes. For the sake of tradition?”  
“Screw tradition.” you whispered hastily, bringing your lips to his in a fiery, open-mouthed kiss.   
Midnight came, people cheered and kissed, the song no one knew the words to was somehow sang, and throughout it all you and Loki made certain he had at least one New Years tradition down.


End file.
